


Nightstand

by astraielle, ghoulaesthetics (astraielle)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Prompt Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:33:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26487229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astraielle/pseuds/astraielle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/astraielle/pseuds/ghoulaesthetics
Summary: “How long this time?”Her mouth feels like cotton when she wakes on the floor of the tent. Outside, wind and snow pelt the material. It’s cold out there, no doubt, but the temperature inside was pleasant and warm.Bull’s remaining eye is focused on her before she’s even aware of it. “Nine hours,” he replies, looking less concerned than he likely felt.Isen rolls her eyes before they flutter shut and she makes an attempt at rising from the bedroll, only to be thwarted almost immediately by a wave of vertigo.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Iron Bull, The Iron Bull/Female Lavellan (Dragon Age)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 36





	Nightstand

**Author's Note:**

> ive always hc'd the red lyrium as having adverse effects on magic users even if they arent corrupted, especially if they spend too much time near it or they over exert themselves. i also feel like the mark would make them more sensitive? or maybe this is actually canon and i just genuinely cannot remember lmao 
> 
> prompt: ❝ you put your arm around me and i literally felt my knees buckle, this is so pathetic. ❞ which i subsequently altered so it would sound like their actual dialogue :p

“How long this time?”

Her mouth feels like cotton when she wakes on the floor of the tent. Outside, wind and snow pelt the material. It’s cold out there, no doubt, but the temperature inside was pleasant and warm.

Bull’s remaining eye is focused on her before she’s even aware of it. “Nine hours,” he replies, looking less concerned than he likely felt.

Isen rolls her eyes before they flutter shut and she makes an attempt at rising from the bedroll, only to be thwarted almost immediately by a wave of vertigo.

“Easy,” Bull soothes, laying a hand on her shoulder.

“I _hate_ red lyium,” she mutters, willing the ground to stop feeling like it’s spinning. “I hate red lyium, and the Emprise isn’t far behind at this point either.”

“Thought you said it looked sort of pretty against the snow when we first got here?” He asks dryly, having moved onto rubbing soothing circles where he initially laid his hand.

“Even the Inquisitor is allowed to have moments of stupidity,” she sighs, moving to rest the back of her hand across her forehead. “Dorian only feels mildly queasy at best, you know. None of… _this_.” She opens her eyes again and gestures loosely at nothing, frustrated.

“Maybe it’s just a ‘Vint magic thing,” he offers up as a suggestion, though not in the interest of being helpful. It makes her chuckle at least.

“Doubtful. It’s most definitely something about the Mark. Oh sure, I can tear down rifts and vanquish demons with a bat of my eyelashes, but you know what I can’t do? Avoid falling in your arms after taking three steps too close to corrupted lyrium—and not even after a fight! Just proximity! That’s so wonderfully pathetic, buckling like that. Corypheus is laughing somewhere.” She huffs again. “Help me up so I can drink something, if you don’t mind? My tongue feels like sandpaper.”

“Here I thought you were intentionally trying to seduce me with that one,” he says as he obliges, moving unhurriedly just in case dizziness sets in again. “Buckled knees are a pretty common sign of that in Varric’s novels, at least.”

She gratefully takes the water he offers once she’s upright. “Believe me, if I ever decide to go to Varric to help me with that sort of thing, you’ll be the first to know.”

He doesn’t hold the cup for her while he supports her lower back—even that’s not really necessary, but he’s The Iron Bull, and he’s never quite been able to go without physically affirming his affections for those lucky enough to have earned it for long. It balances out quite nicely, he thinks. Isenril Lavellan was a woman who had all but forgotten what that sort of thing was like, and he couldn’t abide by that in good conscience.

Well, all of that justification, and the simple fact that contact and body heat were wonderfully pleasant things to share as a general rule.

“Because you’ll tell me, or because it’ll be so bad I’d notice the second you opened your mouth?”

She peered at him out of the corner of her eye without removing the cup from her lips. “The latter, of course. Especially if you’ve never subjected yourself to any of them.”

“Aw, I didn’t think they were that terrible. A little sappy and gratuitous, sure, but nothing that’d make that look you’re giving me make sense.”

Isen _tuts_ and rests the cup in her lap. “I thought I could trust you to have good taste.”

“Who says I don’t?” He chuckles. “Picked you after all, didn’t I?” He adds, casting a glance to her sliver of a Dragon’s Tooth attached to its ribbon, resting atop the rest of her outerwear that he’d removed when he carried her in.

“I’d argue against that,” she shakes her head to hide a smile, opting to lean into his torso instead of letting him see that he’s won, “but questionable literature aside, I have to agree. Despite the lyrium-induced nausea, of course.”

“I dunno, I think that might also be an asset.”

Isen casts a withering look his way. _“Bull.”_

Bull’s ensuing laugher is loud enough to rouse whoever’s in the next tent over. She truly makes it so easy, sometimes.

“Yeah, yeah—love you too, Kadan.”


End file.
